


Patience is for the Weak

by WritinRedhead



Category: The Magnificent Seven (2016)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Faraday can be a little shit when he's hungry, Humor, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-09
Updated: 2017-10-09
Packaged: 2019-01-15 07:09:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 601
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12316227
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WritinRedhead/pseuds/WritinRedhead
Summary: “C’mon, Vas.” His chin propped up on Vasquez’s shoulder, Faraday hangs over Vasquez’s back, arms wrapped around his waist. He’s not being annoying or anything, merely subtly asking. For about the fifteenth time. “Don’t be like that.”





	Patience is for the Weak

**Author's Note:**

> A quick tumblr prompt fill for [ Hazel_Athena](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Hazel_Athena/pseuds/Hazel_Athena): "I’d love you a whole lot more if you’d let me do this."

“C’mon, Vas.” His chin propped up on Vasquez’s shoulder, Faraday hangs over Vasquez’s back, arms wrapped around his waist. He’s not being annoying or anything, merely subtly asking. For about the fifteenth time. “Don’t be like that.” **  
**

“I said no, guero.”

“ _Ow!_ ” Faraday whelps when Vasquez pinches his hand that had been making its way toward the pot. So much for a sneak attack. “Asshole,” he mutters and pulls back his hand to suck at it, nursing the reddening spot.

Honestly, Faraday doesn’t see how he deserves this level of grave mistreatment. It’s just not fair. He’d had a single, measly cereal bar on his way back from work, only to come home and find Vasquez preparing his goddamn favourite food and flooding apartment with truly sinful smells, but guarding the pot like it was his precious. Just because the swarm of locusts is supposed to come for dinner and a round of cards.

“It’s your own fault, I warned you,” Vasquez says and keeps on chopping up a bunch of peppers like he’s not the reason Faraday will die of starvation within the next ten minutes. “You really have no patience, they’ll be over in an hour.”

“That’s still like half an eternity!” Faraday whines and his stomach agrees enthusiastically. No way he can wait another  _hour_. “You’re forgettin’ that Billy and Red are gonna come too, there won’t be any food left in the whole house. A man’s gotta eat when he can.”

“Yes. Which is in an hour,” the mean bastard replies, and Faraday could have sworn he’s smirking. Rude. “You’re not sticking your grubby fingers in there any earlier. It’s not ready yet, anyway.”

Faraday frowns. Looks plenty ready to him. Not like he’s going to eat much of the vegetables in there, so it’s not too bad they’re still half raw.

Trying his luck one last time, Faraday decides on a different approach. He brings his mouth close to Vasquez ear, trailing his finger over Vasquez’s chest, and purrs, “You know, I’d love you a whole lot more if you’d let me do this.”

“Oh really? Is that so?” Vasquez asks, his tone the one that means he’s got one eyebrow raised and is not believing a single word Faraday says. Very well. Then he’ll just have to apply some more non-verbal persuasion. Faraday presses his lips to the patch of skin below Vasquez’s ear, right where the v-neck sweater ends.

“Mhmm, yeah.” He emphasises and nips at Vasquez’s neck in punctuation.

Vasquez hums in approval, but somehow still possess the audacity to ask, “And what if I still say no?”

Now, that gotta change. Slowly moving along Vasquez’s jaw, leaving teasing kisses along the way, Faraday makes it a point rub his beard over his cheek too. “Then I might love you a little less.”  

Vasquez turns around to face Faraday, the grin spreading on his face promising a great deal of mischief. “Well, that would be a shame,” he says, then moves forward and his lips catch Faraday’s. Goddamnit, he should’ve seen that coming.

After a few moment’s time of definitely not cooking related activities, Faraday leans back against kitchen isle, panting heavily. “How much time did you say we have again?”

“’Bout fifty minutes. Why, what happened to eating?” Vasquez smirks, failing miserably at feigning ignorance. Complacent bastard.

Faraday shortly considers his answer. He does realize he’s just played himself, or more like his plan had backfired big time, but at the same time he also couldn’t care less. Curling his fist into Vasquez’s sweater, he pulls Vasquez toward him again. 

“Screw eating.”


End file.
